“I'll stake my existence.”
“What is it worth?”
“My dear, I'm not a jeweller: but it is very large and pear-shaped, and I see no flaw: I don't think you could buy it for less than three hundred pounds.”
“Three hundred pounds! It is worth three hundred pounds.”
“Or sell it for more than a hundred and fifty pounds.”
“A hundred and fifty! It is worth a hundred and fifty pounds.”
“Why, my dear, one would think you had invented 'the diamond.' Show me how to crystallize carbon, and I will share your enthusiasm.”
“Oh, I leave you to carbonize crystal. I prefer to gladden hearts: and I will do it this minute, with my diamond.”
“Do, dear; and I will take that opportunity to finish my article on Adulteration.”
Rosa drove off to Phoebe Dale.